Ante Un Libro Abierto
Hay un tordillo al llegar
Que le da nombre al partido
De aquel pago tan querido
Que da gusto recordar.
Con ese lindo lugar
Que un recuerdo perpetúa
Porque hasta hoy continua
Nombrándoselo entre halagos
Al gran jinete del pago'
El vasco berizertua
En la estancia los overos
Su recuerdo esta latente
Como un mojón imponente quedo esperando el nochero
La lechuza en el potrero
Solo dejo algún lamento
Esperando el tero atento
No pudo ver su pasada
Historia'.. de jineteada dejo
Como testamento''..
Ya siendo algo veterano
Me contó su trayectoria
Y de su tiempo de gloria
De espuela y rebenque en mano
Tranquilo manso el paisano
Me dio una charla un concierto
En lo criollo era un experto
Yo que lo pude escuchar'.
Me dio la impresión de estar
Sentado ante un libro abierto
En su largo itinerario
Contó que entre otros valores
Supo montar en las flores
El día de su centenario
Tuvo amigos no adversarios
Eso si se lo subrayo
Recordando les detallo
Que en ese largo camino
Se midió con argentinos
Y baluartes uruguayos
Dicen que el vasco se fue
Ya esa frase la corrijo
Si en el rostro de sus hijos
Lo he visto más de una vez
Con su misma sencillez
Y con su estampa campera
Lleva su misma bandera
Yo que aprendí a respetarlos
A norma el negro y al carlos
Y al sol de su compañera
Yo creo que no se ha ido
Yo creo que esta presente
En su pueblo y en su gente
Es un abrojo prendido
Un grande no tiene olvido
Y dijo un viejo campero
Que temprano en el potrero
Ha visto un hombre pasando
Ese era el vasco rumbeando
A la estancia los overos.
In Front of an Open Book
There's a gray horse arriving
That gives its name to the party
Of that beloved place
That is a pleasure to remember
With that beautiful place
That perpetuates a memory
Because until today it continues
Being named with praise
To the great rider of the place
The Basque Berizertua
In the ranch the roans
His memory is latent
Like an imposing milestone waiting for the night watchman
The owl in the field
Only left some lament
Waiting for the attentive lapwing
He couldn't see his passing
History of riding he left
As a testament
Already being somewhat old
He told me about his trajectory
And his time of glory
With spurs and whip in hand
Calm and gentle the countryman
Gave me a talk, a concert
In the folkloric, he was an expert
I, who could listen to him
Got the impression of being
Sitting in front of an open book
In his long journey
He said that among other values
He knew how to ride on flowers
On the day of his centenary
He had friends, not adversaries
That I must emphasize
Remembering, he detailed
That in that long road
He measured himself with Argentinians
And Uruguayan stalwarts
They say the Basque is gone
I correct that phrase
If in the faces of his children
I have seen him more than once
With the same simplicity
And with his countryman style
He carries the same flag
I, who learned to respect them
To Norma, the black one, and Carlos
And to the sun of his companion
I believe he has not gone
I believe he is present
In his town and in his people
He is a thorn stuck
A great one is not forgotten
And an old countryman said
That early in the field
He saw a man passing by
That was the Basque wandering
To the ranch the roans